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31 January 2005

Potsherds

Back in November, I introduced an irregular feature to this site, Potsherds, wherein I dig into the archives of other weblogs and pull up things worth preserving, at least for the moment it takes to look at them. Here's another installment:

Theodora Goss on X.J. Kennedy & Dana Gioia's perceptions of good and bad poetry (a subject she had introduced earlier. By the way, Dora writes what may be the most beautiful journal on the web. If she weren't revered for her fiction and poetry, her journal alone would be enough to establish her as a writer of rare grace.)

I don't quite know what the title of this journal is (? Graywyvern?), but I just discovered it whilst bloghopping around. I highly recommend a reading of the archives for a week in April 2003. It's an uncommon commonplace book, a flurry of fragments. It seemed serendipitous to me that the writer should be a fan of David Bunch, since Bunch is one of my obsessions. As is W.S. Gilbert, whom Michael claims wrote, with the following limerick, "the first language poem" (as in Language Poetry, I'm assuming):

There was an old man of Dunoon
Who always ate soup with a fork
For he said, 'As I eat
Neither fish, fowl, nor flesh,
I should finish my dinner too quick.

What has suddenly emerged from these name-brand horror franchises is a comfort level. The very comfort that these films are meant to shed with their low-budget, anything-goes tactics. Now we have a relationship with Freddy, Jason, Michael, and the backwoods clan of "Massacre." Like its outlaw cousin, the porn industry, we all are just waiting for an ever-changing hero/heroine to get fucked. Which really draws into question the nature of horror and the pathos of violence. It's easier now for audiences to relate to these one-time villains because they have spent more time with them. These baddies have personality, goals, and irreverence, unlike their victims whom we resent for their stupidity and comfort ourselves in our superiority. What began as possibly a horrific concept has now devolved into a cuddly monster flick with as little or no shock value as a Saturday afternoon with "Godzilla." The litmus test being the post-screening chat heard in the theater lobby where fright-hopeful lines stare expectantly at the reaction of the departees. The standard query of "Was it scary?" is responded to with "No, but there were some good killings." While standard porn/horror will always recycle the same stories with different faces and box covers it reveals a desperation in the moviegoers, that they are constantly willing to shell out the now outrageous $10 asking price.

And finally, because TMFTML has returned after a hiatus, I thought it might be fun to roam around through his archives to see what got everybody excited in the first place. It was, indeed, fun, particularly once I found a discussion between Bob Dylan and Eminem.